


Music Drabbles

by zjofierose



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Drabble, Drug Use, M/M, Music, Pining, Pre-Slash, Road Trips, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>responding to the "first ten random songs on your wmv/ipod/whathaveyou meme"- think they turned out ok. gave them a sort of over-arching theme, which should be rather obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> **Music Drabbles**  
>  pairing: c/z, though not fully established?  
> rating: yeah, doesn't really get even up to a pg-13  
> warnings: brief mention of drugs  
> disclaimer: these are characters based loosely on people i do not know, and all these stories are completely fictional to the best of my knowledge.
> 
> _ETA: going through and cleaning things up slightly circa 2016 just to make things a little more formatted and readable, etc. this is still an old fic, and one of the earliest i ever wrote, so it's a little... yeah. BUT even though I think (hope) I'm a better writer now, I think it's worth preserving the old stuff for a variety of reasons (yes, ok, part of my day job is being an archivist, it rubs off), so I'm leaving it mostly as is._

  **1) "Twilight"- David Gray- E-town Live Vol.3**

_Greater LA area- Oct 2, 7:26 pm_  
  
Twilight is his favorite time of day. Twilight. The gloaming. That perfect moment at the end/beginning, where shadows lean, when the glow of the sun sinks past the edge of the western sky, when the evening star first shimmers into the gathering dusk.

Zach tips his head back, allows the curl of smoke to drift leisurely into the darkening sky.

"Penny for your thoughts"

The voice comes from beside him. He lets the corner of his mouth twist up, rubs his forehead with his hand.

"Thinking I miss fireflies". He takes another drag, rubs his face again. "Thinking I've only heard thunder, like, twice in the past five years."

Chris rocks back on his heels, waiting. In the distance a plane takes off, engines growling, then disappearing into the approaching dark.

He closes his eyes. "Thinking I need to get the hell out of this town for a while."

Chris nods slowly, passes him the glass of wine he's been cradling in his hand. He stares off into the distance.

"Let's do it."

Zach blinks, turns to face him for the first time.

"Hmm?"

Chris meets his eyes, nods again. His smile starts on the bottom left, spreading like an infection across the rest of his face, teeth glinting in the starlight.

"Let's get the hell out of this town."

  
**2) "Let Me Roll It"- Paul McCartney and Wings- Wingspan 2: History**

_Death Valley- Oct. 3, 11:15am_

They've stopped for a snack and a stretch. It's October, and it's only just past eleven in the morning, but it is HOT in Death Valley.

He sits in the shade of the car, long legs stretched out in front of him. He's resisting finishing his bottle of water- it's irrational, he knows, because there's more in the car, but he supposes the urge to conserve resources is instinctive in this barren place.

Chris has wandered off from the car a little ways, and is currently engaged in scrambling to the top of the nearest low rise to get a look around. What he thinks he's going to see, Zach has no idea, but just watching him is making Zach sweat in sympathy. The sun is blinding where it reflects off both the sand and Chris' white t-shirt. He leans his head against the warm solid metal of the car and closes his eyes.

Zach hears a shout, and looks to see Chris sliding down the sandy hill, arms spread wide, a surfer who has been forcibly removed from his familiar wave. He's laughing and grinning as he reaches the bottom and begins to jog toward the car.

Zach shades his eyes and smiles back in welcome. Watching him like this makes an ache gather in the pit of his stomach. The Greeks believed the seat of the emotions to be in one's intestines, one's belly, one's guts. Watching Chris in the sunlight like this, Zach thinks he can understand why.

  
**3) "The Amazing Sounds of (Orgy)"- Radiohead- Towering Above the Rest**

_Las Vegas, NV- Oct. 4, 2:37am_

Chris is bouncing- literally- around the small hotel room. His hands wave in the air as he croons to himself, waltzing tunelessly across the noxiously patterned carpet.

Zach sighs quietly from his position against the headboard of the second double bed. Clearly there was something other than just alcohol in one of those drinks Chris kept allowing various good-looking men and women to purchase on his behalf this evening. Zach suspects either a rather large dose of E or a rather small dose of LSD; duration will tell. In the meantime, he figures it's better to let Chris work it off here rather than out in the busy streets.

Without warning, Chris flings himself bodily on the mattress next to Zach. He snuggles up fully against his torso, and blinks wonderingly up from his position on his back to where Zach looks down at him, head propped on his hand. Chris' pupils are wide, even for the dim room, and though his smile is blinding, there are tears in his eyes.

"We're so lucky, you know?" Chris presses impossibly closer, and Zach bites his lip not to back away. "We're so impossibly lucky. I'm so impossibly lucky." He gestures absently again, stuttering nonsense shapes with his fingers in the close air between them.

"All of this... all of... you..."

Zach bites his lip, and closes his eyes.

  
**4) "The Fool on the Hill"- The Beatles- Magical Mystery Tour**

_Outside Zion National Park, UT- Oct. 6, 6:29 am_

Dawn is breaking across the red rocks of Zion. Chris is still asleep in the hastily erected tent, pitched not too far from the car, but far enough from the edge of the cliff. 

_Downward Dog._

Zach aligns himself with his back to the rising sun. From here he can see for miles, rolling red hills dipping into blue shadowed canyons. A smattering of snow crowns the highest mountains.

_Warrior_

The sun warms his back, chasing his breath out of his body into a puff of condensation in the morning air. His hands rise above his head, palms pressed together, eyes closed as his spine arches backward.

_Thunderbolt_

The air is clear and fresh. He can feel the oxygen moving through his blood at this high altitude. The morning air echoes with birdsong, swallows and larks, crows, magpies, and sparrows. The sound of Chris snoring.

_Camel_

He smiles. This is exactly what he needs.

  
**5)  "Orange" - The Dandy Warhols- Come Down**

_Grand Junction, CO- Oct. 7, 6:15pm_

The table is a little greasy, but clean enough for elbows. His mashed potatoes are good, the green beans limp with grease, and the tater tots crisped to grade-school cafeteria perfection.

He reaches his hand out, and Chris hands him the ketchup.

The couple behind him speak only in Spanish, voices rising and falling amidst the din of the diner while their three kids play in, around, under, and across the table. Across from him, behind Chris, three cowboys sit and chew determinedly, taking it in turns to saunter outside for a quick smoke.

They are silent. They're both people watchers by nature, and really, where are you going to get better people watching than out here, in real America? But it's more than that, Zach thinks to himself, as he empties the ketchup bottle over his tater tots, the last few squeezes squelching and slurpring obscenely.

Really, he thinks, it's that they have no need for words. Not with each other.

  
**6) "True Dreams of Witchita"- Soul Coughing- Ruby Vroom**  
  
_Witchita, KS- Oct. 8, 10:35pm_

_"Signal got lost to the satellite/ got lost in the/ rideup to the/ plungedown"_

Chris is singing along with the stereo again. He seems to know the words to every song on his iPod, and most of the ones on the few static-y radio stations they've tried. He also has this thing about matching songs to towns, to states. There are a lot of songs about California, Zach's learned, and quite a few about Las Vegas. Not so many about Utah, though he was impressed that Chris has Utah Phillips in his collection.

They left late this morning, and so are still driving, though the sun has set and the moon is rising before the nose of the car. They'll look for a hotel soon, he thinks. Chris seems utterly relaxed, and though he feels at this moment like he could drive forever, he knows that feeling will pass.

In the meantime he will enjoy it, enjoy the hiss of the road under the tires, the utter darkness of middle American plains, the gentle lull of Chris' voice in the starlight.

_"true dreams.../ true dreams..../ true dreams..."_

  
**7) "Ball and Chain"- Janis Joplin- Woodstock: Three Days of Peace and Music**  
_  
Indianapolis, IN- Oct. 10, 3:45pm_

The afternoon is muggy, and the black clouds on the horizon have Zach hoping for some real Midwestern rain. It's comfortably warm at about 75 degrees, but after having been in LA for so long, the humidity in the air has him feeling like he's breathing through a wet blanket.

They had stopped for lunch, desperately trying to navigate the impenetrable loop of intersecting freeways that encircle Indianapolis, finally succeeding in disembarking in front of a mom 'n pop sort of place. After some perfectly adequate potato salad and some at least halfway passable burgers and fries, they had wandered out to the car.

Halfway between the restaurant and their vehicle, they heard the unmistakable strains of a music festival pouring out of the large park down the street, and after checking to make sure they were legally parked for the rest of the afternoon, they had gone to investigate.

The crowds swarm around them, teenaged neo-hippies with their multi-colored dreadlocks, middle-aged yuppies with their Hawaiian shirts and Birkenstocks, the standard Midwestern weekenders clutching their warm beers and sticky-fingered toddlers. On the main stage a gritty looking woman with a top-notch voice is channeling the spirit of Janis Joplin, shaking her head and grasping the microphone as she grinds out notes with all the soul she can beg, borrow, or steal.

The air crackles with charge, and an enormous roll of thunder bursts over their heads. The crowd goes wild, cheering and raising their sunburnt arms and faces to meet the deluge.

Behind him, Zach can hear Chris laughing uproariously. He grins as wide as he has in years, tipping his head back and opening his mouth as the rain pours down in sheets.

It is like being reborn.

  
**8) Magnificat (Christian Grube Und Dem Staats- Und Domchor Berlin Gewidmet)- Arvo Part- Te Deum**  
_  
National Cathedral, Washington DC- Oct. 12, 10:13am_

It is the space window that has always captivated him when he has visited the National Cathedral before. The thought that someone has made a stained glass window with a space rock in it has always seemed so... incongruous? genius? fascinating? He's not sure.

He'd needed to show it to Chris.

He is still technically a Catholic, but he rarely darkens the door of a church. This one isn't Roman, but it feels so familiar anyhow. It's early in the day- there are a few clutches of tourists, but not many. Up in front of the rood screen the Cathedral choir is rehearsing. He doesn't recognize the piece, but lets it wash over him with the sun-warmed colors that shine through the high arched windows.

Moving as though in a dream, he moves into a pew, lowers the kneeler, and sinks down. His hands claps unthinking before him, elbows firm against the hard wood of the pew before him, head bowed in... prayer? thought? contemplation? He's not sure.

For this moment it is enough. He is grateful. He is full. He is.

The transcendence of the moment is complete- the sun through the windows is warm, the soft tones of the choir seem as distant as if they were underwater. His heart surges within him, stretched beyond bursting to flow through his whole being, washing him in love, in hope, in bliss.

  
**9) "Stop Time"- Horace Silver- History of Jazz 07:** **Hard Bop, Funky**

_New York CIty, NY- Oct. 15, 8:49pm_

The lights of the city glitter brightly outside the ballroom windows. It's a lovely night, in a lovely room, full of lovely people.

They made it cross-country in plenty of time for their scheduled appearance at this "required function". Zach grabs another drink off of a nearby tray, and tugs ineffectually at his bowtie.

After the past two weeks, it is utterly surreal to immerse himself in this world again. He has eaten, he has drunk, he has flirted, he has danced. He has been polite, witty, charming, cerebral, urbane, verbose, and suave in equal measure. He can now feel the beginnings of a headache pressing at the edges of his temples. He finishes his drink. Perhaps not an intelligent long-term solution, but at least an acceptable short-term fix.

At least the music is good- the band is flicking skillfully through jazz, swing, bebop, funk. His gaze scans the room, lighting abstractly on the myriad of bejeweled couples gracing the floor. He can pick Chris easily out of the crowd, cheerfully partnering a sultry brunette in a dress of an unusual shade of chartreuse. He takes another drink.

The music pauses, the band breaking for a drink and an announcement, the couples stepping apart to catch their collective breaths.

Like a magnet pointing north, Chris turns to him, his face alight, radiating unmatchably even in the company of the best and brightest.

Zach takes another drink.

  
**10) "End Theme"-Michael Kamen- From the Earth to the Moon Soundtrack**

_New York CIty, NY- Oct. 16, 1:18am_

The lights of the city blend gradually up from the ground until they are lost in the haze of the horizon. Here, in the urban sprawl, the stars above appear dim and far away. The air is thick, and Zach thinks longingly of Nevada, of Kansas, of Indiana, where the stars were immediate friends, close like lovers, like family. The smoke curls from his lips upward, fading into the smog surrounding the balcony where he stands.

He startles when arms wrap around him from behind, and hears a gentle laugh in his ear as Chris settles his chin next to Zach's ear.

"Been looking for you".

Zach shrugs- he's had enough of this party. Would've left long ago, if it weren't rude.

Chris lets him finish his cigarette, deposit it in the conveniently placed tray, then turns him around so that they're face to face.

It's amazing, Zach thinks to himself, that in all the time that he spent staring at the stars in the great open space they've traveled through, he's never noticed how much brighter their reflection is in Chris' eyes.


End file.
